Vaccines are a charged topic right now, so it was especially gratifying to hear good news in the opening session: worldwide childhood mortality from vaccine-preventable disease is dropping. There are several reasons for this, but a big one is increased access to vaccines in the world’s poorest countries.

I’m learning the particulars about how wonky policy decisions directly lead to a shot in the arm of a child in Nigeria or Colombia. More importantly, how easy it is for each of us to help that happen.

Things will be quiet on the blog for the next few days, but I’m sharing details on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram using the hashtag #vaccineswork. If you’re interested, I hope you’ll join me there. I promise not to flood you with stats and updates.

If you have any questions, ask them! I’ll do my best to get them answered.

No mind-blowing parent hack here — just one of those mundane problems that, when solved, made a big difference. — Asha

“I liked the pasta, but it tasted a bit…soapy.”

That’s the last thing I expected to hear about my daughter’s school lunch.

I pack her lunch in an insulated container almost every day. After years of failed attempts at sandwiches and other lunchtime variety, we’ve settled into a routine of hot pasta tossed with tofu, peas, and butter or cream. It’s mild, filling, and easy to eat (this matters because she rarely has time to finish during the meager lunch period at school).

Turns out, the dish soap I habitually used (blue Dawn liquid) left a distinct taste in the container, even when rinsed well.

So, yeah, I’d been sending my kid to school with detergent-flavored pasta.

Shudder.

Once I gave the situation half a thought, I realized that if my daughter’s lunch smelled and tasted like detergent, she’d probably been ingesting a little bit every day.

EDITED TO ADD: A Facebook commenter called me out, saying “that’s not a hack. It’s an advertisement.” To clarify: I have no association with Seventh Generation or its PR/marketing team, and this isn’t a sponsored post. I’m just a happy customer, and I like to share recommendations for quality stuff I think is worth the money.

When I link to specific products, I usually link to Amazon with my affiliate code, which I identify by saying “affiliate link” in the link title. If someone purchases an Amazon product by clicking an affiliate link, Amazon pays me a small commission — usually 7-8% of the purchase price (with no additional cost to the buyer). This helps defray the costs associated with my blog (hosting, design tools, hardware, etc.). I only include affiliate links to products I use or think are worthwhile. I’ve removed all affiliate links in this post so there’s no confusion about my mentioning a specific brand.

For a better understanding of my approach to monetizing my blog, including why, how, and when I use Amazon affiliate links, read this Sponsored Content FAQ. It’s a little outdated (I no longer have ads on my site, and I rarely accept sponsorship offers), but it will give you more insight into my thinking. Bottom line: I care more about your trust than your Amazon purchases.

The Universe was smiling upon me when Sheet Pan Suppers arrived in my PO box a few days ago.

Picky kids, my Facebook wail, and angels disguised as mail carriers

It was a gloomy, damp weekend, and I was feeling especially beaten down by my kids’ picky eating habits. During my casual Sunday Facebooking, I noticed an article my friend Roxanna Sarmiento shared about how we’ve created a generation of finicky kids. I clicked through, not anticipating it would hit me right where I was most vulnerable.

Suddenly years of pent-up frustration came pouring out all over Roxanna’s comment section:

(Will I never learn to avoid reading stuff that leaves me feeling insecure? I don’t blame the article’s author — it’s a fine piece of writing — and for the most part I’m pretty confident about my parenting choices. But my kids’ picky eating is my Achilles heel. I should have seen it coming.)

Roxanna and friends responded to my Facebook wail with kindness and comfort — I tell you, Internet friendship feels like magic, sometimes. But that afternoon, I needed more TLC. Rael suggested I take myself to Powell’s Books for Home and Garden to pick up a new cookbook. He knows this never fails to cheer me.

(Yes, Powell’s has an entire store devoted to home and garden books. Don’t hate me because I live in Portland.)

At the last minute I decided to swing by my PO box on the way to Powell’s. And there, waiting for me, was Sheet Pan Suppers. I high-fived the guy at Postal Annex. A ray of sun may have fallen on the book while angels broke into song.

I had forgotten that a few weeks earlier I’d requested a review copy. I don’t request books often. But I know and love Workman Publishing (they’re publishing my Parent Hacks book). Also, a cookbook that promises “simple, surprising, hands-off meals” falls squarely in Parent Hacks territory, and I wanted to see if it lived up to its claim.

The epiphany

Sheet Pan Suppers arrived at the moment I was ready to tell a new story about family meals.

I was ready to leave the “my kids are picky” whining and the “what did I do wrong” insecurity behind.

I was (mostly) ready to accept my kids’ tastes and stop judging them.

I was ready to be OK with serving meals not everyone likes, or is even willing to eat.

I was ready to offer and eat meals with a spirit of generosity and enthusiasm instead of anxiety (“will they eat this?”) or dread (“they’ll never eat this”).

I was ready to relax about the whole situation.

I was ready to embrace cooking again.

It felt like a signal to start fresh.

The equipment

I’m already an oven-roasting maniac, so it wouldn’t be hard to dive into the recipes. I already own a heavy-duty half-sheet pan and baking parchment.

I did, however, stop by the kitchen supply store on my way home. (It’s across the street from the PO box place. Once again, UNIVERSE SPEAKING.)

Several of the recipes call for a wire cooling rack, and since I saved at least $20 by NOT buying a book at Powell’s, the rack was essentially free. What?

I made Chicken Jerome: a combo of artichoke hearts, sliced mushrooms, scallions, boneless chicken, seasoned and baked in a light wine/lemon/cream sauce. It looked beautiful in the pan, and even more beautiful after its sojourn in the hot oven: steaming, crisp and colorful. I did a little dance as I served it (with rice) to my husband and skeptical-but-willing children.

It was delicious. Rael loved it. My kids didn’t. One ate it (after surgically removing the mushrooms) and the other tasted it then politely declined. We went on to have a wonderful evening together, in no small part because I didn’t glower over my kids’ uneaten food.

The recipes were easy, delicious, and beautiful. My kids tried everything, ate much of it, and enjoyed the presentation. I’m thinking some of their lack of enthusiasm for dinner might be from boredom with the same, old, meals I’ve been cooking for years.

More importantly, I haven’t had this much fun in the kitchen in a while.

Well, Molly Gilbert had me at the intro. Her writing style is snappy and charming and the recipe descriptions are both useful and fun to read. Some tell little stories about the recipes, and I’m a sucker for a good food story.

What to do with all of those classroom valentines? If your kid’s sentimental, tossing them may be tricky.

Some kids are born “savers.” They resist decluttering because they’re attached to the feelings or memories associated with the item in question. My daughter is a saver…she doesn’t even like it when I weed through her outgrown clothes.

But how do you respect a kid’s legitimate attachment to her stuff while keeping the clutter at bay?

In this case, you turn the clutter into a craft project with a little creative reuse.

Valentine collages

Jill from Atlanta has shared her hacks with me for years. I feel like our kids have grown up together. Jill shared a simple project idea back in 2008:

It wasn’t until my house became littered with little Valentines that I remembered this trick. I had my kids gather up all the Valentine cards they’d received at school and make a collage with them on a piece of construction paper (front and back if needed).

Now I have only one paper per child and it can “disappear” in a few days without me finding cards under sofa cushions for weeks.

Valentine placemats

Heather’s hack originally appeared in 2007, and I think of it every year because it’s such a good idea.

As kids, my brother and I would take our stacks of valentines from our school parties and turn them into a holiday placemat by arranging them between two sheets of clear contact paper.

We did the same thing with our birthday cards. They made cheap and easy placemats, and my parents didn’t have to fight with us over throwing away our “special” cards (I wanted to save everything as a child).

My mom actually kept them all, and now my son is eating off of my old Valentines from the ’80s!

Valentine decoupage

Decoupage is the art of decorating objects with paper cutouts. Think: small boxes, photo frames, anything, really. Classroom valentines are perfect decoupage fodder. All you need is a bottle of Mod Podge and some old paintbrushes. For a million ideas, check out the craft blog Mod Podge Rocks.

Valentine bookmarks or gift tags

Amy Wang, Family and Parenting reporter for The Oregonian, suggested making simple bookmarks and gift tags out of valentines. FOREHEAD SMACK. Of course! Rebecca wrote up a simple how to on her blog, Sturdy For Common Things.

Valentine collection box

My 10 year-old had saved the last few years’-worth of valentines. This year, she used them to decorate her [collection] box for school. She taped them down then I covered the whole thing with packing tape.

How about you? Crafts or other reuses for old valentines! Any ideas or links?

Clever homemade Valentines are wonderful…but only if you love doing that sort of thing.

If you feel the stress or “pressure to perform” ratcheting up, please remember that store-bought Valentines are not a sign of “slacking,” they’re a choice to focus on other things you care about more.

As parents, we’re surrounded by hundreds of choices every day, and it can be overwhelming. The idea behind Minimalist Parenting is simply choosing to spend your time/money/attention on the things that are important to you, and/or that you enjoy, and leaving the rest behind.

So, if you’re in to crafting with your kids, have at it! Own it! Have a BALL with the glitter and the stickers and the doilies! But if you’re not, or if it’s just too much this year, grab a box of whatever boxed cards are left at the grocery store and don’t give it another moment’s thought.

Backstory on the graphic: A couple years ago, Christine, my Minimalist Parenting co-author, designed it and we posted it on the Minimalist Parenting Facebook page. It got shared like crazy. Apparently there’s a lot of guilt out there about store-bought Valentines.

I put out the call for people’s easy, homemade Valentine ideas, and look what Tami Hackbarth sent in: her daughter’s sweet Valentine pencils fancied up with washi tape labels. Quick, creative, inexpensive, practical, and a welcome break from candy. A kid could knock out a classroom’s-worth of these in minutes.

If you’ve never seen washi tape before, it’s Japanese decorative paper tape. Washi is easy to work with; you can tear it like masking tape, but it’s smoother and more translucent. Washi layers beautifully, creating unexpected effects as the colors interact with each other.

We are happier and stronger now than we were when we got married and we’ve each got dents and scars picked up along the way. As with raising kids, I don’t think you can honestly talk about a long-standing marriage without acknowledging both the joys and the hardships.

But the gratitude I feel for this man, and for the life we’ve build together, is something I return to every day. (Plus, he’s got a hot beard.)

What follows are are my truths about marriage. I would never presume to offer foolproof relationship advice (marriage, like parenting, works differently for every couple), but these truths are standing the test of time for us.

1. A strong marriage is built on daily actions.

It’s the little things. It’s a cliche, and it’s true.

Every time you discuss instead of demand, you strengthen your marriage. Every time you speak with respect instead of sarcasm, listen instead of dismiss, engage instead of eye-roll, you support your marriage’s resilience.

Every action in your marriage is a brick. You decide whether to use it to build a foundation or a wall.

2. …but don’t overlook the grand gesture.

Splurging on flowers or surprising your spouse with a vacation, a diamond, or a day of alone time won’t transform your marriage overnight. But it will cause your partner to look up from the day-to-day routine and take notice.

A thoughtful, unexpected gesture can kickstart a course correction in your marriage.

3. Never underestimate the importance of a good laugh.

Can we just say this out loud? At times, modern marriage-with-kids can be frustrating, boring, and exhausting. Another cliche fits here: If I didn’t laugh, I’d probably cry.

So laugh. A lot. After 21 years, Rael can still tell me a joke I’ve never heard.

Write a “funny” list, then commit yourself to laughing at one of these things together every day.

4. …or good sex.

Even if you’re too tired. Even if you’re feeling resentful about last night’s bicker.

I promise you: the problems dogging your relationship will be easier to solve while you’re basking in the afterglow.

Just do it. Regularly.

5. All good marriages have a supporting cast.

There’s an odd fallacy about marriage (middle-class, Western marriage, perhaps) that it should stand on its own. If two people love each other, have shared values, a little chemistry, a decent job, maybe a kid or two…their marriage should be able to withstand life’s slings and arrows, if not unscathed, then at least intact.

In my experience, life’s a lot bigger than two people.

Sooner or later, something will knock you down and you’ll need help getting back up. It might be something straightforward, like a messy house or a bad habit. Or something big: job loss, a health crisis. It may be something good: launching a new business, or winning the lottery. Or something bad: a child’s diagnosis or a death in the family.

You might need a housecleaner, babysitter, marriage counselor or psychiatrist. Some need a financial advisor. Some just need their extended family or their friends. But everyone needs someone.

When you can’t fix your marriage on your own, find the people who can help.

6. Treat your spouse as you hope your children will treat theirs.

Little minds and hearts are learning about partnership, gender roles, and marriage from your example.

Therefore: hug and kiss in front of your kids. Offer to help your partner before he or she asks for it, even if you don’t think he or she deserves it. Express pride and admiration in your spouse’s accomplishments, both private and public. Assume the best of intentions. Speak up for yourself. Fight fair, then apologize. Show your kids how two loving adults can respectfully disagree with each other, then make up, move on, and have a blast.

I say this not to promote guilt, paranoia or dishonesty. The worst thing we could do is to project a facade of brittle perfection. Our kids are smarter than that, and playacting only hurts and confuses them in the long run.

Let your kids see you doing the work of a strong marriage.

We owe it to them to be mindful about what we’re teaching them.

And we owe it to ourselves to dig deep for the good stuff.

Postscript

I wrote a list like this a few years ago, but every year I learn something new about marriage so I decided it was time for an update. The “new” for us is a return to something we haven’t done since our early years together: dream about the future.

Ever since we had kids, our focus was generally on the immediate: what’s for dinner, what’s happening at work, what’s going on with the kids, how much does that cost, what are we doing this summer. We were so engaged in the now that there was little time or energy to look much farther ahead, relationship-wise.

But now the empty nest is no longer a theoretical destination…it’s in sight. What do we want to do once the kids have moved out? How do we want this next phase of our lives look…and feel?

This hack first appeared here in 2008, and it epitomizes the forehead-smack quality of the obvious tip that wasn’t obvious to me till someone said it out loud. Zed’s hack might inspire you to dig out those heart-shaped cutters (or buy a set for a few bucks). — Asha

Zed shares the versatility of the humble cookie cutter:

Nothing is a better investment for Valentine’s Day than heart-shaped cookie cutters in various sizes.

Aside from the many craft possibilities, they instantly make boring food seem like Fancy Valentine’s Food, simply by cutting it into heart shapes. The classic is pancakes on the morning of Valentine’s Day, but they also work great on Rice Krispy treats for the class party, toast, sandwiches, cheese, crisp lettuce, mashed potatoes, lasagna noodles, etc.

Heart-shaped mashed potatoes. Now there’s a thought.

Years ago, I saw another cute cookie cutter use in a magazine — use a heart-shaped cookie cutter to make red Playdoh hearts, place one each in cellophane party bags, and hand that out to classmates instead of candy.

My youngest child just started middle school, so we’re done with classroom Valentines. But I’ve still got a soft spot for them.

I remember how fun it was to get a box full of valentines from my classmates, and how I couldn’t wait to read and re-read them all, especially the one from the boy I secretly loved. Did he write “From” or “Love”? What did his handwriting say about his inner nature? I kept these details in mind when writing out my own cards as well (only beloved friends and crushes got “Love, Asha.”)

I bring this up because it’s easy to forget that our kids feel things about the giving and receiving of classroom valentines. Unlike Halloween, which is basically a candy haul, the annual pageantry of classroom valentines plugs into our kids’ hearts; their friendships, their glimmers-of-crushes, their mentors.

(Do boxed valentines still include a special, bigger card for the teacher? I loved that as a kid.)

I wish I had remembered this during my kids’ early years when I resented classroom valentines as just one more thing to do. But as my kids got older, it got easier. Watching them write out their valentines brought my own memory back into focus.

I stopped worrying about the valentines themselves (homemade or store-bought? candy or no?). One year, my daughter made her valentines out of folded-over index cards. No pink or red, no hearts, just a little Sharpie-d cartoon portrait and note to each friend. They were perfect, because they were hers.

(I also keep my “fake, commercial holiday” grumpiness to myself. My husband and I aren’t into Valentine’s Day, but that’s no reason to ruin everyone’s fun.)

I invite you to consider this as you head into classroom valentine season with your kids.

Take a breath, keep it simple (if that’s what you and they enjoy), or go to town with craft projects and glitter and stickers (if that’s what you and they enjoy).

Try not to let the deluge of Valentine’s Day craft ideas bog you down.

Let your kids write out two or three cards per day (with help, if necessary) so the job never feels too overwhelming.

Then sit back and, when Valentine’s Day comes, watch it unfold for your kids.

Parent Hacks is CRAMMED with Valentine’s Day ideas. Starting tomorrow, I’ll repost my favorites, and I’ll highlight new finds from around the Web. Share your links in the comments!